Another Face in the Crowd
by CrazySuperHeroine
Summary: "It's weird how I've come to recognise him in a crowd, based on just a glance. It's as though he outshines the others, like he's holding a sign going 'Hey you'. Maybe he's a magnet, and I'm a piece of metal being attracted by him." Warning : sad. Can be read in Kendall's pov.


**A/N : I'll let you read this as how you want to. Or pretend that I'm doing this in Kendall's point of view.**

It's weird how I've come to admire men. To admire _him_. How my dreams are constantly plagued by his face, his hair, his grin. How I, despite continuously shutting my heart away, have suddenly fallen for the guy I told myself I liked looking at just because of his cool, spiky and emo hairdo.

It's weird that I've realised how often we'd bump into one another, after lectures, during break, maybe even after school, and every time we do, I cast my gaze over to a wall, for fear my appearance might be appalling to him.

Funny, I don't think he ever notices. But I do it anyway.

It's weird how I've come to recognise him in a crowd, based on just a glance. It's as though he outshines the others, like he's holding a sign going '_Hey you!_'. Maybe he's a magnet, and I'm a piece of metal being attracted by him.

A really old, rusty metal.

It's weird how, when I told my friends about this sudden obsession, they were supportive. Or perhaps it's feigned enthusiasm. They told me we'd look good together. They don't know. They don't realise how that peaks my expectations slightly.

But I can't blame them. I never could.

In the end, it's weird. It just is.

Sitting on my bed with my laptop, typing this down in the middle of the night is sadly the only way I could fully comprehend my thoughts, feelings. My fears. The only way I could express myself explicitly.

Because no one would glance twice at me to realise who I truly am. Writing this, as upset as I am, makes me realise my worth. I'm unvalued. Always cast aside by the people I cared for, by people I loved.

Always being replaced.

He'll never notice me, this I know. Heck, he probably has no idea I exist. Maybe he already has someone else he could hold and call his. Maybe he doesn't want anyone. But, what if he's feeling the same way? What if, to him, I'm not an ugly, unsatisfying, shameful rock? But what if …

No. Don't think about these things now. The more I dwell on the assumptions in my head, the heavier my chest feels, the more pressured my eyes are as they keep my sanity and strength at bay. Because I know, for a fact, he won't look at me.

And that is all that I need to push the tears out, to let them flow freely.

The more into this fucked up mind I go, the harsher the reality, the harder the bites. It gnaws on my brain, my heart. As my conscience numbs away, I open up and embrace these feelings, fully aware of what they're capable of but unable to stop them.

Desperation. Loneliness. Sadness. Fear.

All of them merge into one, playing pretend as I conjure up a wonderland, where he'd be with me. Where I'd be happy for once. I could keep the thought going, feeding it the lies my hopeful romantic side was hoping for, allowing it to blossom into the most beautiful rose of all.

In my mind, he'd be the person I'd hold onto. The one I could turn to at times of need. The one who wouldn't run away once my guard was dropped to the ground. In my mind, he's perfection. He'd be the best. Girls would drop to their knees at his feet, begging to be his.

Only, he'd refuse, of course.

Then, there'd be guys glaring daggers at him, hoping their piercing gazes could puncture through his well-built body and kill him. Severe the veins under his skin. Make him suffer for being the reason they're dateless, that they don't have someone they, themselves, could hold.

I'd get in the way of those glares, though. Definitely. I'd give up my body and soul to protect him. Hurt me, scar me. Kill me. However, leave him unscathed. He has done nothing but be the man I've always yearned for.

But, that's all in my head. Nothing but a dream for me, myself and I. A fantasy for me to live out my wildest imaginations.

He's so close sometimes. Yet, despite the distance my arm has stretched, he's still so far. I could feel his heat radiating off his body, his scent engulfing me, his eyes staring intently at me.

But I couldn't reach him.

Then he'll start to disappear from my mind, dreams. He'll leave a scar that wouldn't scab over, whether he realises it or not. A scar constantly oozing blood, which seemed to be unlimited. The pain of my heart breaking would double as reality comes back to claim its rightful place.

Then I'd have to look at it in the eye and play pretend all over again.

Let's face it.

He'll never notice someone like me, someone who's just another face in a crowd.

**A/N : I haven't posted in a long time & I apologise. It's basically because I've had projects to get done since December last year & it's all coming to an end now. Thank God.**

**Leave me questions in your reviews if you have any & I'll answer them by next Sunday via another chapter.**

**P.s: For my Electrike readers, it's coming. Soon or not, I'm not so sure but it's halfway. & it's pretty long so ... Sorry! & be patient :p**

**Also, this was written as a spur of the moment kind of thing so I'm sure there's gonna be mistakes. But it's 2am in the morning & I'm tired & all the other little shitty feelings I feel at 2am. So I'mma go now.**

**Hope you guys enjoyed this little sad tale thing I call a fic.**

**Read, Review & Favourite *gives hugs***


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